Imogen didn’t usually worry, but as she stood just outside of Flourish and Blotts debating over whether or not to go in, she figured the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach was something close to it.
It was a stupid idea. Why would Mary want to talk to her? She was at work, she’d be busy, and she was probably just being polite when they spoke the other day. She was sure Mary wasn’t looking for Imogen to come bothering her at work to talk about all her problems. It had been a stupid idea.
But she’d walked all the way over here, and she didn’t have anything better to do. It was worth a shot, right? The worst that could happen was that Mary would say she was busy, Imogen would leave, and they’d pretend it had never happened. So she took a deep breath and stepped into the store.
“Hey, Mary, you got a minute?”
